


across the universe

by LUNARMEEKZ



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AND the rolling stones, And Queen, Depression, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Underage Smoking, an obnoxious amount of refererences to the beatles, background stanlon, eddie is a lot more like book-eddie than movie-eddie, eddie stan and ben r sophomores everyone else r juniors, featuring my sexy taste in music, highschool, i changed their grades a bit to be Swag, if that makes sense lol, richie has piercings like a boss, sonias a piece of shit just warning, takes place in the 70s - 80s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LUNARMEEKZ/pseuds/LUNARMEEKZ
Summary: maybe, eddie thinks, richie is the one for him.(title taken from 'across the universe' by the beatles)
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	across the universe

**Author's Note:**

> i didnt really edit this much, so if there are mistakes sorry !!
> 
> the chapter title comes from the song ‘this boy’.

"he takes his inhaler with him _everywhere_ ," sonia kaspbrak explains, leaning over the front desk indignantly. her finger is pointed and her face is red, and quite frankly the secretary (mrs. mary? martin? he can't really see) looks like she'd rather be anywhere but there. "do you hear me? he _needs it._ "

"i understand that," the secretary says, looking up at sonia from under her glasses. she smacks her gum and sighs. "i just can't let him take medication with him to the cafeteria. he'll need to go to the nurses."

" _why not?_ it's not like he's dealing drugs!"

"mrs. kaspbrak—"

eddie blurs out the rest of the conversation and he looks to the clock on the wall. if he wants to be on time to his first class, he would need to leave in two minutes. it's currently a friday morning, and he’s been stuck in the front office of his new high school for at least a half an hour, and if he has to be there any longer he might cry. it's kind of embarrassing, really, how much his mother cares (enough to escort him to school and sign him in herself, regardless of all the registration they had already done the week prior), but he knows if he voices his thoughts she might start yelling. 

he looks out the office's large windows and into the hallways. for a small town, the school was weirdly huge, with an abundance of students. he tries not to think about what lunch will be like. the halls are flooded with students getting to classes, and soon enough they empty. eddie's eyes widen when he looks back to the clock and sees that nine and a half minutes have passed. 

he stands abruptly and goes to his mother, who's still screaming at the poor secretary. upon closer inspection he sees that her name is miss martin, and she begins to write out a tardy note for him. 

"bye, mom," he rushes out, standing up taller to give her a kiss on the cheek. 

she smiles gratefully and then glares at the secretary, before storming out. eddie takes the slip from miss martin and shoots her what he thinks is an apologetic smile. it looks more like a grimace. 

eddie rushes to his locker and shoves his bookbag into it haphazardly, only taking his binders for his first two classes with him. he had honors english for first period, and then chemistry for second. after that was study hall then lunch. he stops in the middle of the hall to read over his schedule one more time. briefly he considers going back to miss martin for help on where each class is but a soft voice breaks him from his thoughts. 

"are you lost?" 

he looks up quickly to see a tall boy, his age, standing a few feet from him. he's wearing straight-leg jeans and a dull polo, as well as a yarmulke. his hair is cut neatly to his ears. the boy walks over to him and eddie nods shyly.

"uh, yeah—i don't know where honors english is," eddie says. the boy peers over eddie's shoulder to see his schedule.

"oh, they messed it up, that's the old english classroom," he says, and eddie blinks. "i have that class right now, i'll show it to you."

eddie sighs inwardly. "great, thanks," he says, and the guy smiles at him. 

"you're new here?" he asks, and when eddie nods he says: "i'm stan." stan looks at eddie's schedule again and nudges him. "we have the same classes except for fourth period, so you're stuck around me."

"cool, uh, i'm eddie." he feels nervous for no reason and he wishes he wasn't so awkward. stan doesn't seem to mind, though, which he thinks is nice. 

they walk quietly the rest of the way and eventually they get to the classroom. it's small and tucked in a corner next to a janitors closet, and the door is covered with decorations. eddie raises a brow but says nothing, following stan into the room.

there are about seven other students already in the classroom, and the teacher immediately eyes eddie. 

he's a small, round man, with smile lines and a bald spot. he walks over to eddie and plucks the tardy slip from his hands. eddie braces himself to get yelled at, but falters when the old man just smiles and claps him on the back. 

"everyone, we have a new student," he announces, and eddie flushes at the attention. only a few look to him, though, and he goes to the desk that the teacher pointed out. 

it's in the back row (eddie frowns—his vision has recently gone to shit) and the teacher's desk is right behind it. all of the desks in the classroom are filled except for the one next to eddie. 

the teacher, who eddie learns is named mr. becker, continues on with the lesson he had been teaching. eddie begins to jot down missing notes that he missed, looking off a packet mr. becker gave him. 

a few minutes pass of mr. becker chatting with the class, and eddie feels more or less at peace. he had moved around a few times before, and he never felt more comfortable in a class than he does now. 

he hears the door open, and mr. becker scoffs. 

"pleasure of you to join us, richard," he says sarcastically. 

"it's all mine, rick."

he hears stan sigh. 

absorbed in his note-taking (he has it down to a science, really), he doesn't look to see who richard is. they sit down in the empty seat next to him.

eventually, when he can't take the nonstop foot-tapping, eddie looks up and over to the guy in the seat next to him. his outfit is somehow obnoxious; he's clad in skinny black ripped jeans, a long-sleeve band tee, and a large orange hawaiian shirt. the hawaiian shirt is unbuttoned and short-sleeved, and clashes with everything else. he's wearing red converse and mix-matched socks (one is plain white, and the other is grey with little breast-cancer-awareness ribbons), and his shoes are severely hole-y. eddie doesn't know what to make of it. his hair is dark brown, almost black, and it forms a long, curly mane down to his neck. his face is freckled, he has a piercing on his right eyebrow, and he has a pair of large chunky glasses that are so broken that eddie wonders how they stay on his face. 

his eyes bug when he realizes that the guy caught him staring, and he looks away quietly. when he hears him laugh he looks back.

the guy's brow is raised as he slowly drags his eyes up and down eddie. eddie squirms in his seat and the guy grins and looks away. 

when the bell rings eddie gets up and joins stan at the door. stan smiles at him, but soon it drops and stan rolls his eyes. 

"stanley, my love!" a voice exclaims, and stanley begins to leave the classroom. 

they don't make it very far before hawaiian shirt guy bounds up to them and plants a fat kiss on stan's cheek. stan shoves him away.

"get bent, rich," he murmurs, and he smiles.

"who's this cutie?” hawaiian shirt asks, and when eddie flushes he grins. 

“i’m eddie,” he says, and the guy sticks out his hand, “kaspbrak.” he shakes it.

”eddie kaspbrak,” he repeats, enunciating each syllable. he gives an approving nod. “sick. i’m richie.”

”don’t get caught up with him, eddie,” stan stage whispers, “he’s a real drag.”

richie clutches his heart and whines, “oh stan, how you hurt me so.”

”see what i mean?”

richie eyes eddie again and asks, “you got a schedule on you?”

”uh, yeah,” eddie says, and he fumbles to get it from between his binders. he hands it to richie quietly. 

he scans it over and whistles. “you’re only in tenth with all these advanced classes?”

eddie nods and richie hums.

“well,” he goes on, “we have fourth period together. that’s it.”

richie reaches over stan’s shoulder and he tugs on eddie’s ear. eddie cringes. 

“don’t scare him off, rich,” stanley mutters, and richie scoffs. 

"anyway, i gotta go.” richie turns and begins to walk down one of the halls. he calls out, “sit with us at lunch, kay eddie?” 

eddie blinks, staring off at his retreating figure. stan tugs him lightly and they go on to their class. 

study hall is before lunch, and eddie doesn't realize what's happening until the bell rings and everyone begins to leave the classroom. he tries to follow the pack but to no avail, as everyone ends up going there own way. 

so, he stands still in the hallway, looking around anxiously. where would stanley be? they had just left the same class, but stan had been talking to someone else, so he left before eddie did. 

maybe he could—

"eddie, man!" a loud voice calls, and it pulls eddie out of his panic. 

he turns just as richie's arm collides with his shoulders, and suddenly he's being pulled into richie's side. he stumbles and richie grins. "good to see ya! where are you off to?"

eddie shrugs, trying not to think about the way that richie's cologne is hitting him in strong waves. his eyes flit around, and richie raises a brow. 

"i don't know," he says, "what am i supposed to be doing right now?" 

"uh, since it's study hall," richie starts, beginning to walk down the hallway, thus dragging eddie along with him. eddie clutches his books to his chest and richie deadpans, "i assume study."

eddie sighs. "i don't really have anything to study." he looks to richie, who's staring straight down the hall. "when's lunch?"

"after this." 

they walk quietly, eddie uncomfortably so under richie's embrace, and soon they stop at two double doors. eddie freezes.

"where are we going?" he asks, and richie shrugs. he finally takes his arm off of eddie, and eddie's shoulders droop in relief. 

richie whistles, swinging open the door. "after you, edward."

eddie wrinkles his nose but goes, walking briskly past richie and outside. a few other students are lounging around, and across the small field is a tiny set of bleachers. richie points to them and nudges eddie. 

"we are going to go study," he declares, and he starts to walk to the seating, not waiting for eddie. 

eddie looks around, and when he sees that no one is looking at them, he sighs and goes after richie. he says a silent prayer that what they're doing is allowed. 

when he gets closer to the bleachers he sees that they aren't empty; two people sit huddled in the middle row. richie bounds up the metal steps, sitting at the very top. eddie stands in front of the bleachers, not knowing where his place is. he bites his lip and looks around again. 

one of the two other people, a girl with bright red hair and shocking blue eyes, gazes over at him. she squints her eyes before nodding. 

"you're the new kid," she points out, and richie grins. 

"yup," he says, "come on, sit with us! make yourself at home."

richie pats the spot next to him, aggressively so, so eddie quietly trudges up the steps to sit next to him. the other person at the bleachers, a boy with dark skin and a warm, glowing smile, turns to eddie.

"what's your name?" he asks.

"uh, eddie." he bites on one of his nails, and when no one responds, he adds, "kaspbrak." 

"i'm mike hanlon," the boy introduces. he smiles at eddie, and eddie can't help but smile back. 

eddie nods, and it's then that he notices none of them are actually doing any school work. the girl, like richie, has none of her school things with her at all, and mike is just reading (and annotating? there's a multitude of scribbled notes and highlighted sections) a book. richie is leaning against the hand rail with his arms behind his head. he's staring at something behind eddie, with a blank expression. eddie shifts in his seat, pulling a small novel out of his stack of binders.

"bev, you got anything?" asks richie. the girl—bev?—rolls her eyes. 

"no." she pushes richie's knee. "if i did i wouldn't give it to you anyway."

"whatever," richie grumbles, and with his middle finger he pushes up his glasses.

"my name's beverly," the girl says, and she shakes eddie's hand. her grip is somewhat firm and it makes eddie feel sort of embarrassed, but he's not sure why. 

the group sits quietly, richie whistling a tune. finally he says, "eddie's gonna be sitting with us at lunch." 

beverly looks at richie quietly and then hums. "sounds good." she grins and goes to say something else, but mike accidentally cuts her off. 

"do you guys know where stan is?" he asks, setting his book down.

richie groans loudly and blows a raspberry. he lays down on the bench, hanging his legs over the side and throwing an arm over his eyes. 

"no, mike, _god._ " he huffs. "all you ever talk about is stan."

mike rolls his eyes. "i'm just wondering." 

"i saw him leaving chemistry with someone," eddie tells, and suddenly all the attention is back on him again. he shifts. 

"really?" mike asks. he smiles, "you know stan?"

"yeah, uh, we have most of our classes together. . ." he trails. he looks to richie and asks, "uh. . why?"

richie cuts in before anyone else, "mike and stan are in _loooooove_. it's gross."

eddie's brows shoot up before he can help it, and he asks, "really?" 

"yup." richie lifts his head to gaze at eddie almost warily.

"oh," eddie says, and he feels sort of dumb for it. he just didn't know what else he was supposed to say; cute? congrats?

"why?" richie's voice is suddenly sharp, and his eyes harden. "there's not a problem is there?"

the immediate turn of the conversation gives eddie whiplash and his eyes bug. he turns to mike slack-jawed. mike is staring at him with one brow raised, and beverly is frowning. richie is just glaring at him. 

he waves his hands quickly, and sputters out, "what? no! i'm not—" 

both of mike's brows are now up in an amusement, and richie is just squinting at him. 

"i'm not, like—i just didn't. . ."

richie snorts, " _ohhh,_ okay. i see what's going on here."

mike scoffs and beverly rolls her eyes. eddie looks at all of them, still reeling from the accusations. 

"what?" he questions, leaning forward. his voice is high and richie nods.

"yup. i see." richie jabs a finger at eddie and grins. "eddie's a fruit!" 

eddie gapes as the other two erupt into laughter. 

the cafeteria is small and cramped, with all the tables shoved into rows with just barely enough space to maneuver through. eddie had to go to the nurse before lunch, to pick up his medications, so richie went with him to make sure he didn't get lost. 

"you're interesting, eddie," richie had said, as eddie took four small, colorful pills. 

eddie blinked. "um. okay, thanks i guess."

"what are they for?" richie asked when they walked to the lunch room, and eddie sighed inwardly. 

"well, i have one for my migraines," he began, using his fingers to count, "one for my cholesterol, and one was just a vitamin." 

richie nodded, taking the information in. then, he asked, "what was the other one?", to which eddie never answered. 

now they're standing in the tiny cafeteria. eddie clutches his lunch bag tightly, knuckles white as he nervously looks at all the people. 

richie notices, and he drapes his arm back over eddie's shoulders. eddie wonders if it will become a thing. 

"yeah, i know how you feel man," richie sighs out, "this place is jam fuckin' packed. once you're sitting down it's not that bad, though. by the way, our table is over in the corner, eds."

eddie follows the line of richie's finger to see the table in the far left corner. it has five people sitting at it, one that eddie doesn't recognize, and he feels his stomach swoop. 

the hand resting on him suddenly is accompanied with a tight hold, as richie squeezes his shoulder. 

"eddie-o, i gotta go get lunch," he says, and he lets go of eddie. he opens his mouth, shuts it, and then opens it again to say, "hey, are you good? you look a little queasy, do you need to go back to the nurse?"

eddie shakes his head, "sorry—i'm just. i'm nervous."

richie nods, "well, the guys are all nice, they won't bite. i'll see you at the table, kay?"

"okay."

and with that, richie is off to the lunch line, and eddie is alone. he takes a deep breath, feeling his inhaler in his pocket, and he makes the long walk over to the table. 

when he gets there, everyone is already in a deep conversation—some argument that eddie doesn't really want to follow along. the only people who aren't necessarily contributing are stanley and mike. mike turns when eddie sits down and he smiles. stan does the same. they don't say anything for a minute or two, just listening to the others bicker back and forth. 

"well, hey eddie," mike eventually greets, and eddie squeaks out a small greeting of his own. "is rich getting his lunch?"

"yeah."

stanley nods, and he eyes eddie. "hey, sorry for leaving you during study hall. bill needed help with something."

as if on cue, two people sit down at the table—richie in front of him, and on the end a taller auburn boy. he has soft eyes and his brows are pinched. 

"w-what about m-muh-me?" he asks with a grin, and stan rolls his eyes. 

richie plops his tray down on the table, saying, "sup, losers," and no one makes any move to respond. 

"wow," he mutters, and eddie raises a brow. then, he says, "so you've met everyone then?"

eddie shakes his head. 

"how rude!" richie leans forward and points to a boy two seats down from him. he has messy blonde hair and whenever he speaks a dimple pops out. "that's ole ben," he says. "ben hanscom. and this," he points to bill, "is big bill denbrough."

"i c-could do th-that my s-suh-self, thanks," bill says, and he pinches richie on the arm. richie swats him back, and eddie watches silently as they continue to fight. 

when they're done richie asks mike, "what are they talking about now?"

"ben thinks that jaws is a shit movie," he explains, resting his chin in his hand. "bev disagrees. they've been fighting over it for. . ." he looks to the clock and sighs. "about fifteen minutes?"

"we aren't _fighting_ ," ben says, "just—discussing!"

"no, we're fighting," beverly states, and ben rolls his eyes. 

"i just think it's unrealistic!" 

eddie begins to tune them out, and he opens his lunchbox. his meal is a cold turkey sandwich and a ziploc bag of apple slices. eddie sighs, setting aside the sandwich and pulling out the apples. he sits back in his seat and eats them quietly. 

he is left alone for all of 45 seconds until a green juicebox is set in front of him. he looks up and richie is watching him with furrowed brows. 

"you're lunch is dog shit," he states in place of explanation.

eddie eyes the juice and frowns. "and grape juice will fix that?"

richie shrugs, and he copies eddie's position, slouching back in his seat. 

"well are you gonna drink it?"

eddie blinks, and he takes the juice box. it somehow has a bitter aftertaste, regardless of its obnoxious sweetness, and eddie purses his lips. 

"thanks," he says quietly. 

"aren't you s'posed to take meds with food anyway?" richie goes on, and he sits up and leans forward. he jabs his fork at eddie's lunchbox repeatedly. "'cause this can't be cutting it."

bill raises a brow. "m-m-meds?"

eddie gives richie a blank look before nodding to bill. "i have, like, health stuff. i don't know. my mom has me take them."

bill nods hesitantly. "oh. . ."

richie snorts, and bill gives him a look. 

"hey," stanley says, directing it towards their end of the table. "are you guys coming tonight?"

eddie bites his lip, and he crosses his legs. richie looks at him for a moment and says, "yeah, probably."

"cool. i think we're just gonna watch movies." stanley turns to eddie. "you should come, too. it'll be fun."

"come where?" he asks, and bill sighs.

"m-my house," he mutters, picking at his salad with his fork. "everyone j-juh-just comes to m-mine all the time."

"you should come," richie says. "we usually head over after school, so if can't come or you need to talk to your folks let us know."

eddie nods, taking it all in, and he feels touched. he didn't think he'd be so easily accepted into the group.

"h-here," bill starts. he pulls out a pen and begins to scribble something onto a napkin. "here's my n-n-number, you can c-call me when you know if you c-can c-come." 

eddie takes the napkin and folds it, putting it into his pocket. he feels himself flushing as he quietly says, "thanks, guys."

bill grins.

his fourth and final class of the day is calculus, and he runs into richie upon entering the room. richie smiles at him and bows, letting eddie go in first. eddie scowls. 

"fancy meeting you here, kaspbrak," richie drawls, and eddie tries not to sigh. 

"you told me we had this class together."

"you're no fun."

their teacher is a young woman who looks absolutely bored out of her wits. she's sitting at a large desk, front and center, and staring at nothing. eddie approaches her. 

"um, where should i sit?" he asks, and she shrugs, picking at her nails. 

"sit wherever," she says. 

eddie glances at the chalkboard. written in the corner is 'mrs. ray'. 

richie is sitting again in the back, and eddie sighs. he'd prefer to sit up front, but at the same time sitting with someone he knows would make things easier. he sits in the seat in front of richie.

richie kicks the back of his seat. "you should sit next to me, then we can talk," he says, and eddie turns around to face him. 

"i don't wanna sit in the back row, my vision is shit."

richie's eyes widen and he leans in, smirking. "so you can curse? hot."

eddie's brows meet, and before he can respond the bell rings. 

the lesson soon starts and when it does it drags on for ages. richie has sighed numerous times, each one a different tone to express his boredom. mrs. ray pays it no mind.

richie pokes his back once, twice, _three times_ before eddie turns to acknowledge him.

"what?" he whispers. 

"wanna skip?" 

the suggestion is said so seriously that eddie has to restrain himself from saying something prissy or rude. he just shakes his head, and richie pouts.

"please?"

"no, richie."

richie huffs, and eddie turns around. when he does, he notices a curly haired boy across the room. he has his eyes fixed on richie, disapprovingly. richie sticks his tongue out at him. 

the class ends after a while, to which eddie is glad. richie had been kicking the legs of his chair the entire time, and as cool as richie is, it annoyed eddie a lot. 

eddie and richie walk out of the classroom quietly. eddie is listening to the sounds of everyone around him, and richie is humming a song. 

when they get to eddie's locker, richie stops and nudges him. 

"hey, so i'll see you at bill's?" he says, rolling back and forth on his feet. he holds his binder under his arm and leans against the locker that's next to eddie's.

eddie hesitates. "um, i don't know. maybe."

richie hums and tilts his head. "do you not wanna go?"

"no, i—i do," eddie says, unlocking his lock and dumping his binders inside. he takes a moment to organize them before turning to glance at richie, who's rubbing his pointer finger over his brow ring and looking away. "it's just, my mom is. . . i don't know if my mom would let me."

"oh," richie says, and he pauses, as if to say something else.

"she's just sort of overprotective," eddie explains, "but i think she'll let me. i'm just not sure."

"hm." richie eyes eddie quietly, before sighing. "o-kay, just call us. you're a nice guy, y'know? i think you should stick with us."

eddie looks over to richie and nods slowly. "okay. thanks, that's. . nice of you to say."

richie grins and he shoves eddie's shoulder. "see you, man."

eddie watches quietly as richie walks away, and when he turns back to his locker he nearly jumps out of his skin.

"jesus," he mutters, and beverly smiles.

"that would be me." she grips her bookbag straps and clicks her tongue. "so. . . eddie. . ."

he finishes putting his things into his bag and shuts his locker. he looks at beverly, who is staring back at him almost quizzically. 

"what?"

beverly hooks his arm through his and begins to walk down the hall, toward the front of the school. 

"nothin'," she says, "are you walking home?"

"yeah," he says, and she nods. 

"me too." 

they walk quietly until they get outside of the school. eddie sees a group of guys, one of which is the boy from his math class, and the others looking much older. they're sitting around a sports car, drinking cans of beer and watching a group of girls. it's almost like they have a natural repellent; everyone just walks around them, keeping as much distance as possible. 

"who are they?" he asks her, and beverly looks to where he's looking. 

she groans, and eddie watches, surprised, as she pulls out a cigarette and lights it. in the school yard. 

she looks to him and raises a brow. "do you mind?" she questions, regardless of the fact that she's already exhaling the smoke around them. 

eddie should say no. his asthma has been bad lately, and cigarettes freak him out anyway. plus, if his mom smelt it on him, it was game over. instead he just shook his head. 

"that one," she points at a tall guy sporting the worst mullet eddie has ever seen, "is henry bowers. he's a real piece of work. the one next to him is connor, henry's cousin. the blondie is victor, long hair is patrick." 

"and the one with the hat. . ?" eddie wrinkles his nose, watching as the aforementioned boy hocks a loogey right on henry. henry punches him on the shoulder, hard, and victor and connor chortle. eddie looks away when he locks eyes with connor.

"belch huggins," she says quietly. "try not to let them notice you, eddie. they can be. . a lot."

eddie looks to her and hums. "okay."

"especially connor and henry."

"okay." 

beverly sighs, a cloud of smoke wafting around with it. they get to a street corner, but when eddie makes to turn left and keep walking she stops. 

"well, it's good getting to talk to you," she tugs her bookbag up and her skirt down, looking behind her. "but this is where i split." she looks back to eddie with a small smile and asks, "see you tonight?"

he shrugs. "hopefully."

"great." she turns and begins to walk down the street, stopping in front of a small brown apartment complex. "see you eddie!"

he waves to her and she waves back. when she gets inside eddie sighs and continues walking, heading to his house. it's not too far, only a few blocks more, but it still sucks for someone who is not athletic to have to walk everyday. he pats his pocket, feeling his aspirator, and he immediately pulls it out. 

the smoke had been bothering him the entire time beverly was smoking, but he didn't really want to say anything about it. he presses the device to his lips and inhales as the medication shoots out. when he feels it hit the back of his throat he sighs, shoulders sagging in relief.

when he gets home his mom is in the living room, sitting on the couch and knitting. when she sees him she motions him over. 

“how was your first day?” she asks, clasping her hands together in her lap.

“um. . it was good,” eddie says, and for once he isn’t lying about it. “i made some friends.”

”you did?” she asks, and eddie is almost hurt by how taken aback she is. 

he nods. “yeah, they’re really cool.”

she narrows her eyes but nods. “i see. any homework?”

”no.” it’s not exactly true, but if he said yes then she wouldn’t let him hang out with anyone. 

“okay.” 

she picks up the ball of yarn and whatever it is she was making, and continues to knit. the conversation is over, but eddie stays. 

“um, mom?” he hesitates, and when she looks over to him he swallows. “could i hang out with my new friends tonight?”

her brows furrow and she presses her lips together. “already?”

”um, yeah. . . to—to get to know each other.”

it wasn’t the best excuse, but it was that or nothing. his mother always has to have a good reason to let him hang out with someone. 

when she doesn’t respond, he keeps going. 

“and—they’re gonna help me study, since i joined school in the middle of the unit? for my classes.”

she looks up to him with her brow raised. 

“okay. . .” she trails, “okay. when?”

”any time now.”

she purses her lips and sighs. “if you must, then fine.”

”thank you, mom.” he goes over to her and kisses her on the cheek.

she watches as eddie skips over to the kitchen phone. he pulls out the napkin with bill's number, dials it, and goes into his hallway. she looks away.

after ringing twice, someone hangs up.

" _who is this?_ " a voice asks, and eddie pauses. 

"um. eddie?" a beat passes and he goes on. "who is—is this bill?"

" _bill? no, this is georgie_ ," they—georgie—says. eddie blinks. 

"um. okay." he looks down at the napkin and bites his lip. "do you. . know bill?"

" _uh, yeah_." 

eddie waits, and when georgie doesn't elaborate he breathes out a laugh. "okay. could i talk to him?"

" _uh, i dunno,_ " georgie says, " _he's downstairs_."

there's rustling, and the sound of someone else speaking quietly, and then the phone is passed to someone else. _"eddie?_ " it's ben.

eddie sighs. "hey, yeah, this is eddie." 

" _sorry, none of us were by the phone_ ," ben explains. 

he twirls the phone cord around his finger nervously and peeks down the hall. his mother is still sitting there, knitting quietly and humming a song. "it's okay," he says, "uh, i was just calling. i can come over, if you guys—if you still want me to?"

ben laughs. " _well, yeah, we still want you to come over. and sorry bill's not answering, he's uh—in the middle of something?_ "

"it's fine."

" _do you need bill's address?_ "

eddie nods and then quickly says, "yeah, uh, yes please."

" _cool, it's. . ._ "

eddie skips back into the kitchen as ben rambles off the address, and he jots it down onto a piece of notebook paper. 

"cool, thanks ben."

" _no problem!_ " he exclaims, and eddie smiles. ben seems sweet. 

"well. ." he peers back down the hallway to see his mother doing a terrible job of pretending not to be eavesdropping. he shuts his eyes tightly. "i know where the street is, so i'll be there in a bit." 

" _sweet. see you eddie_." 

eddie says a quick bye, and ben hangs up. 

he goes back to the living room tentatively, waiting to hear what his mother says. she says nothing, not acknowledging him, and he tries not to sigh. 

"i'm gonna go now, mom," he tells her, shifting back and forth on his feet. 

her response is a mere grunt. 

eddie skips up to his bedroom and puts on a sweater—a striped chunky sweater that's maroon, beige, and orange—as well as shoes. he kisses his mother goodbye, cringing as soon as his back is to her.

"you'll be back by 10," she declares, just as he's stepping out the door.

"yes, mom."

and he's off.

as he walks he keeps the paper with the address clutched in his hand. he pats his pocket and sighs when he feels his inhaler. luckily the walk is short, and after a couple minutes he finds himself at the address written on the paper. 

the house is a tall, two story picket-fence type of building, with a well kept yard and no cars in the driveway. he walks up to the front steps and knocks on the door. when no one answers he fidgets and knocks again, a bit louder this time. he's considering booking it when the door finally swings open to reveal beverly, who looks out of breath. 

"hey, eddie, sorry if we kept you waiting," she breathes, and she tugs eddie through the door. 

stanley peeks his head in through the kitchen, and another tinier head pokes out with him. 

"eddie!" stan grins. "great, you made it."

he nods with a smile. beverly is still holding onto his arm. the little boy with stan furrows his brow. 

"who the hell are you?" he blurts, and eddie's eyes widen. 

from the basement, bill yells, " _L-LUH-LANGUAGE, GEORGE!_ "

georgie rolls his eyes. 

"this is eddie," beverly cuts in, and she shoots him a smile. "come on, stan and georgie are just making snacks. let's go."

before he can say anything eddie is being pulled down the stairs and into a large, open basement. there's a large couch smack dab in the middle, in front of a t.v. there are two recliners, both of which look like they've seen better days. ben is sat on the arm of one recliner, mike is on the other, and bill and richie sit on the couch, leaving only a small space in the middle open. 

"we're watching recordings," beverly says quietly, and she skips over to sit next to ben on the recliner. eddie stands awkwardly, and he kind of wants to creep upstairs to hang out with stan. 

he takes one step back at the same time that richie spews a landslide of curses. 

"what the fuck!" he shouts. he has one arm slung over the back of the couch, a cigarette lazily burning through his fingers. his other hand is waving aggressively at the television. 

bill leans back and smiles smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

eddie takes the time to see what they're watching and his brows meet. they're watching a boxing match, between two men that eddie doesn't recognize. 

richie turns around suddenly, looking frustrated, but the expression drops when he sees the brunet. 

"eddie, hey!" he smiles, waving a hand. bill turns and smiles too. 

"h-hey, eddie."

eddie smiles and approaches the couch shyly. both ben and mike send him smiles of their own. 

richie looks him up and down and cocks a brow, before turning back around to face the television. "cute sweater," he says, and eddie blinks, looking down at his jumper. he briefly wonders if richie is being sarcastic, but by the look beverly shoots him and the way bill looks away he's not sure. 

bill pats the small seat between himself and richie, and he glances up at where eddie's standing. 

"you can suh-sit down, you know." 

eddie moves from where he's leaning against the back of the couch and sits down, feeling only slightly squished between richie and bill. richie scoots over, though, giving eddie more room. he keeps his arm around the back of the couch, thus around eddie's shoulders. eddie flushes, staring firmly at the tv.

richie taps him on his leg. he's wearing a shit eating grin and eddie isn't sure if he wants to know what the older boy is thinking. 

"are you that excited to see me?" he asks quietly, and eddie tilts his head. 

he looks down to his leg, seeing the small lump in his pocket, and he sighs. 

"shut up," he mutters, and richie grins. 

eddie pulls out his aspirator from the pocket, and richie raises a brow. "it's my inhaler, perv."

"oh." richie blinks, eyeing eddie. "you have asthma?"

"well, yeah."

richie nods, lifting his cigarette to his mouth in thought. as he's inhaling his eyes widen. 

"oh, shit, lemme—" richie cuts himself off and leans forward (eddie freezes at the way richie gets into his space), putting out the cigarette in bill's small, pink ashtray. he sits back down and waves his hand around in front of him vigorously. "sorry."

eddie shakes his head and leans back in his seat. he feels embarrassed, and the way his ears are burning doesn't help. "it's fine," he murmurs, and richie adjusts how he's sitting. his side is pressed to eddie's, and eddie tries not to think about it. 

today was a large jump from his old life. he was simultaneously put into a decent sized friend group, with nice people, who all a) smoke, b) hang out regularly (and want him there, too), and c) are touchy with each other. he felt out of place, but also glad. it just freaks him out a bit.

eddie shoves his inhaler back into his pocket. he hears as both richie and bill take a sharp breath, but afterward richie is the smug one rather than bill. next to them bill frowns, and mike watches the screen intently. on their other side, ben and beverly are quietly talking, not paying attention. 

"do you ever watch boxing, eddie?" richie asks conversationally. behind them his fingers tap away at the couch. 

"uh, i guess." it was a lie. eddie had never watched a match in his life. he remembers hearing his dad talk about it once, briefly, in a distant past. 

richie hums. "well, we watch it all the time." his lips quirk up in a smile and he crosses his legs. "i'm rooting for ali."

"i w-want l-luh-lyle," bill butts in, and richie shakes his head. 

"not gonna happen," he tuts. eddie blinks.

"who are they?" he asks timidly. he shrinks when both bill and richie turn to stare at him. they look as if he personally insulted them.

richie clicks his tongue, and with his free hand he points at the screen. "the one in white is muhammad ali, love that guy—" he pauses, cringing when muhammad ali lands a solid hit against his opponent, "and the guy with red shorts is ron lyle."

"h-how d-do you not know who r-r-ron lyle is," bill teases, nudging eddie. 

richie scoffs, "how do you not know who _muhammad fucking ali_ is?", and with that the two erupt into a hushed argument. 

eddie fidgets as the two lean over him, insulting each other and debating. 

the match ends shortly after, with ali knocking out lyle, and bill curses next to them. richie jumps up in his seat, nearly knocking down a stack of cds and magazines, and he begins to dance around the room. when he finishes his victory circle, he stops in front of bill, hand outstretched and body wiggling to some imaginary tune. bill huffs, taking out a few crumpled dollar bills and loose change. he thrusts it into richie's hand and richie shakes his head. 

"three dollars and 12 cents?" he shoves it in his pocket and says, "i thought we said five?"

"well i d-don't have five," mutters bill, and richie clicks his tongue. 

as richie is about to retort, georgie bounds down the steps, followed by a less boisterous stan, and he exclaims that they made everyone milkshakes. after that, they all (minus eddie, who just walks) bolt up the steps in a stampede. beverly makes it up first, and then mike, so they end up getting the first pick.

it's silent as the two study the shakes, trying to find which one is filled the most, and when beverly finds it she takes it and makes a mad dash to the table. mike follows, and then everyone else, until it's just richie and eddie. 

richie's humming, something that sounds vaguely like 'stone cold crazy', and he motions to the counter. 

"your pick," he says simply, but he raises a brow when eddie takes the smaller of the two milkshakes.

they both go to the dining room where the rest are and they sit down. listening to their easygoing conversation, eddie finds that bill's parents are gone 'yet again' and they are taking 'yet another' long weekend trip. some of them were just going to sleep over. eddie wouldn't be able to, not that he necessarily _wants_ to anyway—they are all very nice but eddie doesn't even know them much. he'd feel awkward and nervous the entire time. also, he has a doctor's appointment at around nine or ten the next morning. 

"so, like, where'd you move from?" beverly asks him, and he sips on his drink for a moment before answering. 

"maryland," he replies, and when he looks around he sees that all eyes are on him. 

"oh, man," richie laughs, "you moved _here_ from _maryland_? why would you ever want to do _that_?"

bill and stan both roll his eyes. 

"don't be rude," stan mutters, reaching across the table to flick richie. 

"uh, i dunno, my mom wanted to get out of the city, i guess." it was true. eddie's entire extended family, on his father's side, lived in that city. plus, according to eddie's mom—and he quotes—' _that city is a volcano of infections and germs waiting to erupt!_ '. he didn't know where she pulled that metaphor from. probably her a—

"well she definitely found the right place," grumbles richie, and he slouches so low in his seat that he has to look up at them from under his hair. 

"we should get to know you!" says ben, and eddie kind of wants to crawl into a whole. 

"um." he sips his drink again, eyes flitting across the five curious faces pointing his way. the only one not looking is richie. "okay."

"so you're, what, 15?" richie asks, and eddie shakes his head. 

"16," he corrects, and richie finally turns to him. he looks eddie up and down, pushes his glasses up, and 'hmph's. 

"what's your favorite color?" beverly asks, and after that the losers all blurt various questions to eddie, all varying from 'any pets?' to 'your biggest fear?'

ten minutes pass of eddie having to give his life story and the questions have begun to take on a much more personal side. put simply, it's stressing him the fuck out. richie, though, hasn't asked much, just watching eddie silently and giving minute reactions to his answers. when one of them asks something about eddie's dad (what's his job?), eddie stands abruptly. if he didn't have all the attention then, he certainly does now. 

he excuses himself to the bathroom, feeling his breathing come out in sharp, short inhales that ring a pain in his chest. richie watches, curiously, as he flees down the hall, and as he's walking eddie realizes he doesn't even know where the bathroom is. he makes an educated guess, and luckily finds it right next to the kitchen. he goes into the small bathroom and shuts the door, immediately pulling out his inhaler. when he doesn't need it anymore, and the wheezing has just reduced to tired breaths, he sighs and leaves the bathroom nervously. 

he just doesn't like that kind of attention. 

eddie steps back into the dining room, nervously, and sees that almost all of the others have left. only richie remains.

the black haired boy is sitting in his chair, chin in his palm and chewing on his straw. his empty milk shake cup sits in front of him and with his free hand he messes with his eyebrow pierces. eddie notices he does it a lot. 

richie turns around when eddie comes in and his eyes widen. 

"uh, sorry about that," eddie mutters, and he sits down and continues to drink his milkshake. 

richie sits up a little straighter, dropping both hands to drum across the table. he shakes his head. 

"nah, it's—" he tilts his head and squints his eyes, watching as eddie downs a large portion of his shake in one go. "are you alright?"

eddie cringes when the cold of the drink hits his brain, and he sets down the glass with a shaky nod. "yeah, sorry. i just—i don't know. freaked?"

"i get it," richie assures, and he sounds like he really does. "we can stay up here for a bit. they're only playing monopoly." he sighs and resumes his slumped position, shooting eddie a grin. "they're fuckin' crazy when they play that game."

it's rich coming from, well, richie, but he figures he's probably right. 

he glances over at the clock and sees that it's only five. 

"you sleeping over?" richie asks, and eddie shrugs. 

"i dunno. ." he sighs. "i have to go to the doctor's tomorrow, so. ."

richie nods. "that's cool. it's last minute anyway."

they sit together for a while, half the time in silence as eddie slowly finishes his milkshake and richie tries not to fall asleep. 

eddie won't lie, he kind of wants to go home. he feels bad, like, pretty shitty, and he wants to sleep. in his nice, comfortable, memory foam mattress. that sounds pretty good.

time soon slips by as they talk and apparently their absence is noticed. stanley skips up the steps and looks around, and when his eyes land on richie and eddie he bites his cheek. 

"hey, we were wondering where you guys were," he says, slipping into the dining room. innocently, he asks, "hey, eddie? could i borrow rich for a minute?"

eddie looks up and nods. "yeah, sure," he says, and richie puts his head in his hands. based on the look on stan's face and richie's reaction, eddie guesses this happens from time to time. 

he takes his and richie's empty glasses and puts them in the kitchen sink. on the way to the steps he sees richie glaring at stanley as they quietly talk. 

eddie goes downstairs to see that not much has happened. bill is laying on the floor, bored, and ben and beverly are sitting on one of the recliners and, again, talking amongst themselves. mike is sitting and flipping through a magazine. 

hearing footsteps, bill lifts his head. when he sees eddie he grins. 

"thank g-g-god, i'm so f-f-f—" he stops, blinks, and sighs. "bored."

before eddie can respond bill has jumped up and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him over to a corner of the room. eddie has noticed that this group is very fast paced. 

"okay," bill starts, letting go of eddie and crouching on the floor. he pulls out a large bin and begins to flip through its contents; a plethora of records. "do you l-like to m-music?"

mike snorts loudly, having heard the question, and bill flips him off. 

"uh. . ." eddie scratches his neck. "yeah?"

"okay. help me find an a-a-album to t-turn on."

eddie sits on the floor, pulling the bin towards him. 

"d-do you l-luh-like any of this stuff?" bill goes on. "it's mainly stuff me and r-rich p-picked out. stan t-too, i guess."

the collection ranged from many classical albums—he guesses it's stan's input—to hard rock. a lot of it is music his mom would never let him listen to. he flicks through them for a while and shrugs. 

"i guess i like this," he says, pulling out one of the only albums he recognized. it was a beach boys record.

bill hums thoughtfully. "okay. . ." he trails, taking the album from eddie. he stands by the record player, putting the vinyl onto the turn table and letting it play. 

eddie gets up, having no need to sit on the floor anymore (his mother would lose her mind if he sat on the nasty concrete) and he plops himself down on the couch next to mike.

they lounge around until the record ends and ben suggests watching movies. 

somewhere into the first movie—cabaret—richie slinks down the steps and throws himself next to eddie again. by the time that movies done, richie has fallen asleep, curled on his side with his feet against eddies knee and his head on the armrest. 

eddie tries, he really does, to stay awake. he keeps in mind that his mom said be home by 10, which really meant 9:30. he remembers that he has a doctor's appointment the next morning that he can _not_ miss. and in the forefront of his mind is a voice shouting at him to _stay awake! for the love of god go home!_ , because if he doesn't then his mom will call all the surrounding police departments and alert that her baby boy has gone missing. and, she probably wouldn't be keen on letting eddie stay with anyone ever again. 

but, alas, eddie feels his eyelids drooping, and bill's couch is weirdly comfortable. he closes his eyes and drifts off. mike throws a blanket over him some time later. 

**Author's Note:**

> kinda basing the whole hanging-in-bill's-basement off how everyone is always in eric's basement in that 70s show. hope this chapter wasnt too boring!


End file.
